


The False Oracle and the Fallen Samurai

by Ivyblade80



Category: Phantom Kingdom | Makai Kingdom: Chronicles of the Sacred Tome
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Character Death, Character Study, Complete, Demons, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Injury Recovery, Major Character Injury, One Shot, Oracles, Post-Endgame, Resurrection, Samurai, Sarcasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:21:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23402914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivyblade80/pseuds/Ivyblade80
Summary: Months after the incident involving the Sacred Tome, Pram has been unable to forget about it and move on. This is particularly because of the many questions burning in her mind—all of which are directed towards Seedle. But with the man having fallen in battle, she is unable to ask him anything.Unless...she were to use the power of the Sacred Tome to bring him back to life.
Relationships: Seedle/Pram (Phantom Kingdom)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	The False Oracle and the Fallen Samurai

* * *

* * *

_“How dare the cosmos imply that my Mana power isn’t strong enough?!”_

_As her fury enveloped her, as did her power grow. Each second sent another surge of energy coursing through her veins, her sharp crystal-like aura growing larger by the moment. Her pale wings shone as they stretched to their limits, pure white hair blowing rapidly from the force of her strength. Her piercing red eyes glistened as they focused intensely on the crimson tome that stood before her._

_Her dress turned to a less restrictive form—most of the bottom half fading away in order to allow her Mana to gather even more freely. Her sharp, black-painted nails harshly dug into the palms of her hands, drawing blood, even as her hands slowly began to shift into soft white paws fitting of a feline—her feet following the example._

_Yet no matter how much her appearance may be altered—she paid it no mind. Her thoughts were solely concentrated on gathering as much Mana as she possibly could. No matter how much she needed—she would get it. How could she know this? Why, of course, the answer was because…_

_She was Pram—the freakin’ Oracle!_

_“The gate of the dead opened…” The young blue-haired girl spoke, watching in awe as the large swirling portal in the sky appeared, revealing the faint image of the deceased blonde woman._

_“…Salome!” The man, or rather—book, shouted as he stared to the portal with amazement. A wide grin graced his features, ever so excited for this momentous occasion._

_The portal continued to grow, the image of the woman becoming clearer by the second. “Phew, it’s working…” The girl from before spoke, this time in relief. Their plan had actually been successful, they would be able to bring the departed Salome back from the realm of the dead._

_Amidst their celebration, no one had noticed the dark purple and crimson aura approaching, with it forming a brief and ironic cross as a man appeared. His long silver ponytail blew forcefully from the heavy wind, his olive-green kimono gently swaying as he stared on—his expression one of both strength and determination._

_He growled with fury before swiftly drawing both of his blades from the sheaths hidden behind his back. “Go to hell!” He spat huskily before closing the distance between him and the white-haired demon in an instant._

_The harsh words caused her to look towards the source, only allowing her the briefest glimpse of the man’s callous features before feeling the cold metal of the blades tearing through her body._

_“Aaaahhhhhhhh!!!”_

_Her shrill scream rang throughout the vast space, seeming to echo for an eternity before she finally collapsed to the ground. Her torso began to bleed profusely as her body trembled, dying the fabric of her formerly pristine dress in deep crimson—and even more beginning to drip from her pale white lips. Her power suddenly began to fade, her appearance reverting to its original form in an instant._

_Everything had become so foggy. No longer was she able to see the sight of her friend who had stood opposite of her, nor was she even capable of seeing the man who attacked her. Everything became an image of swirling darkness; her eyelids growing so heavy that she lacked the strength to hold them open. She heard noises—perhaps voices—but they had been so far away, so distant. And with each passing moment, they became farther away, more distorted…_

_As her consciousness finally began to fade, she was unable to utter a single word. She could only think to herself one last thought._

_‘Zetta… I’m sorry…’_

* * * * *

She shuddered, holding the plush pillow closer to her chest. Her lips formed a pout as she released a soft sigh. “Ugh… Why am I thinking about this again? It was months ago—everything’s fine now…”

She told herself that every time, but it was clear that nothing was actually fine. Ever since that fateful day, she has thought about the incident almost obsessively. Even in her dreams, the scenes would continue to play, unfolding in the exact same way every time. No matter how much she wanted to forget it and move on, she was unable to.

She hasn’t spoken of these feelings with any of the other overlords. Why would she? Everyone is happy now, because everything’s back to normal.

Zetta was able to use the Sacred Tome to obtain his original body and his former netherworld, along with reviving his beloved Salome. Salome, naturally, is happy to be alive and back by Zetta’s side. Alexander continues to challenge Zetta every week, still thinking he somehow has a chance of defeating him. And the rest of the overlords, Babylon, Valvoga, and King Drake the 3rd, weren’t actually involved with the incident, so nothing really changed with them—they’re the same as ever. And Seedle, he…

She hadn’t personally witnessed it, having been unconscious at the time. But after she woke and her injuries were treated, she was told that Alexander had showed up and fought with Seedle. He was able to use his special attack, Vanishing Bolt, to destroy him with ease. He also boasted that Seedle had “screamed like a little girl” before dying, in which Zetta wholeheartedly agreed.

It went without saying that none of the other overlords liked Seedle very much. He was gloomy and sarcastic, and spent most of his time with the group by insulting everyone. He also couldn’t be in the same room with Salome without trying to kill her, since he made it his life’s goal to get revenge on her—due to her being the one to kill him in his human life. But despite that, he hadn’t been the one to kill Salome.

She was instead defeated by her own kindness, having given Zetta a little bit of her Mana power each day for years, until it finally made her weak enough to come close to her deathbed. And in her final hours, she challenged Zetta, hoping that she could at least die by the blade of her beloved, rather than by a mere illness. She had gotten her wish, in the end. But Zetta wasn’t happy with that, which is why they had decided to use the Sacred Tome to bring her back in the first place. He was unable to do it himself, however, as his soul was confined to the tome.

Zetta was always Pram’s favorite plaything—she teased him almost constantly. She especially liked to make fun of him because of how egotistical he was, always bragging about how he was the strongest overlord in the cosmos. Yet his confidence meant nothing in the face of her mockery of him—she could always put him into place quite nicely.

But in that moment—as he stood there pleading to Pram, begging her to tell him what to do…she couldn’t bring herself to say a single word of contempt. She could only take pity on him, eventually bringing her to the decision that she would revive Salome with the Sacred Tome herself.

Initially, her Mana hadn’t been strong enough—her wish merely faded away. But as she focused every ounce of her energy onto the Sacred Tome, summoning even more Mana than she had ever thought possible, it had actually begun to work. The gate of the dead proceeded to open as Salome began to return—until Seedle attacked her, thus putting an end to everything.

Despite this, she held no ill-will towards the man. She could understand his desire to keep them from reviving Salome. After all, who _wouldn’t_ want to get revenge on the person that had killed them in the past? It was only natural that he wanted her to remain dead.

And while she would have preferred for him to stop the revival in a way that didn’t bring her so much pain—she still didn’t hate him. In fact, she had always thought of him as a friend. She couldn’t know for sure if he viewed her in the same way, but she thought he might have…at some point, at least.

With that being said, Pram never thought of him as being as horrible and twisted as the others proclaimed him to be. In a sense, she felt he was a kindred spirit. She too, would often tease the others at their expense, taking joy in their dejected actions. Perhaps it could be said that Seedle’s jokes were harsher, and it was true that he had committed many sins in his life, and even his past life. But did it matter? They were demons, after all. Is that not how they were expected to act? She may have been considered an oracle, once, but even she had been unable to understand their disdain for the man.

“If he’s so awful, then why am I still alive?”

She mumbled quietly as she shifted in her bed, now facing the ceiling. That question was yet another one that plagued her ever since the incident—it constantly burned in her mind.

Seedle was an overlord, ruler of the Underworld. And while Pram was somewhat of a prodigy—being extremely powerful for one as young as her—she couldn’t yet compare to many of the stronger overlords, with Seedle being one of them. So in that case…why did he not kill her? Not only was she weaker than him, but she had been in the middle of focusing all of her Mana on the Sacred Tome. And on top of that, she had been completely caught off-guard. In such a position, he could have unleashed any special move that would have easily killed her.

Yet he only slashed her with his blades—there was nothing flashy in any sense. It sure hurt bad enough, and it caused quite a bit of blood to spill. But he hadn’t killed her, when he certainly had the opportunity to.

Another thing she had noticed in that brief moment is his expression. It held no malice whatsoever; it was purely expressionless. It had been like a samurai marching forward to accomplish his mission, defeating any foe necessary without a single emotion. Only in that case, defeating the foe would surely result in their death—which didn’t happen here. He merely knocked her unconscious in order to stop her from bringing Salome back. So, was he truly as terrible as they all say?

Not that it mattered anymore. He was killed by Alexander, and no one paid it a second thought. The overlords would all meet up on occasion, with not one of them mentioning the samurai. And she didn’t mention him either, because she knew that no one actually wanted to think about him. She didn’t blame them, because she didn’t want to think about him either—although perhaps for a different reason.

Whenever she thought about him, she felt an aching in her chest, a sort of emptiness. She had no idea what it could mean, but she suspected it could be due to the fact that he had been her friend. Therefore, with him being gone, the group of overlords felt like it was just…emptier. And not only that, but his death left her with so many of these dreadful questions—ones that will never find their answers.

“An oracle being unable to find the answers they seek… That’s a laugh. If only…I had been a real oracle…”

Her frown grew as she thought about it. For as long as she had boasted about being an all-powerful overlord as well as an oracle capable of seeing the future, it had always been a lie. She was never able to see anything—and all of her “prophecies” had only come true because she read ahead into the Sacred Tome. That tome was the true oracle, able to see the future as well as being able to change it. Her prophecy of Zetta’s netherworld getting destroyed had been a sham too, having purposely written in the tome that it would happen. And thus, it did.

Really, so many of the things that had gone wrong had been her fault. If she had never written those words, all in an attempt to help prove that she was a true oracle, then so much would have been different. Zetta never would have lost his netherworld and body, and the overlords never would have needed to meet up to help him get it back. Ultimately, Salome likely would have still died, but perhaps they could have wished her back without all the hassle of Zetta needing to obtain his original body first.

And maybe…Seedle wouldn’t have needed to die. He could have continued ruling the Underworld, not knowing anything about them using the Sacred Tome to bring Salome back, or even that she died in the first place. So everyone would be doing their own thing, and they would all be happy, right?

That had been another reason for her sadness in relation to Seedle’s death. The knowledge that, in a sense, she had caused it. With that being the case, she really couldn’t blame him for stabbing her. She actually began to feel that it was her karma, so she got over any frustration she may have had towards him quickly enough. If she never messed with the Sacred Tome, she wouldn’t have been stabbed. So, perhaps justice was served. Although, the justice may have been more fitting if she had been the one who died instead…

It was very unlike Pram to be sitting around, whining about her problems all day. Normally she would be out messing with the other overlords, or even conquering other netherworlds. But she just didn’t feel up to it these days. Losing the status she had as an oracle certainly didn’t help. Using the Sacred Tome, she once was able to know everything—and now she knows almost nothing. It was such a drastic change, one that she was not at all thrilled with.

She had ended up telling the other overlords the truth of her prophecies, albeit reluctantly. With the knowledge they now had of the Sacred Tome and its capabilities, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that she had merely read ahead into it. And with everything that happened, she had no desire to continue with the charade—even if she would miss knowing everything.

So, it made the most sense to just tell them the truth before they figured it out themselves. But because of this, she couldn’t stand being around them now—the shame of them knowing the truth being quite humiliating. They surprisingly haven’t mocked her for it, even though they really should have. But she knew that they surely must be thinking about it, knowing that she’s truly nothing special. She’s just another regular overlord with somewhat decent Mana power. That was it.

At this point, what could she even do? Her best idea was to attempt to go back to her old life and hope that everyone was able to move on, forgetting all about the oracle business—herself included. But she couldn’t help wishing that there was something else she could do, something that would get rid of that empty feeling she’s had—anything to take away the thoughts and questions that have continued to burn in her mind…

She considered asking one of the other overlords for advice, but who could she talk to? She’d rather die than ask King Drake the 3rd, Babylon would be too busy sleeping to actually listen, and talking to Valvoga would be annoying and worthless. Zetta and Alexander are also too dumb to give any meaningful advice and would probably just laugh at her for becoming so “soft.” Hence, the only one left was Salome.

Pram was never exactly close to Salome, as she never even met her before the whole incident with Zetta becoming the Sacred Tome. She hadn’t even spoken to her much during the incident either, since she generally had a pretty high-and-mighty personality that really got on Pram’s nerves. But after a while, she began to lighten up and become a little nicer, so they’ve talked more often in recent times.

Besides that, perhaps as another woman, she would be the best one to go to. She’d probably be a little more understanding than the others, at least. And she was much older than Pram, so perhaps she could have some sort of decent wisdom.

Of course, Pram hated the idea of going to anyone else for advice. After all, she had always been the one to give advice, not receive it. But it’s been months since the incident, and she still didn’t feel any better. She hated to admit it, but she probably didn’t have much of a choice. That is, unless she wants to wallow in her misery for all of eternity—which didn’t sound too appealing.

It was settled then. She would meet with Salome in order to figure out some sort of solution that could help her finally move on from this incident.

Pram sat up, stretching her arms with a quiet yawn. She then stood and walked to her large white vanity, beginning to brush her long pale hair as she stared into the mirror. “Can’t meet with Salome looking like this, after all…” She grimaced as she stared at her rather messy and matted hair. She hadn’t taken very good care of her appearance as of late, since she mostly just stayed inside her castle. She only bothered to clean herself up on the somewhat rare occasion of her needing to go out. Her own vassals—during the few times they would see her—often suggested that she take better care of herself. Suffice to say, they all ended up in blocks of ice.

She decided to get a shower too, then blow-dried and brushed her hair again, along with getting dressed. Her shiny white hair was now soft and sat in place perfectly, reaching all the way down to below her hips. She had on her favorite red X-shaped earrings that hung from her long and pointed ears. She also wore her usual white dress, with it being very rounded and puffy towards the bottom, along with some red frills near the end. She accompanied the outfit with her white clog-like shoes, a big red ribbon on each of them. And finally, she completed the look with two unnaturally large handcuffs on each of her wrists, the chains on them having been cut. It wasn’t as if she had just broken out of jail or anything, but she thought that they were quite stylish and tied the outfit together nicely.

And now, she was ready to meet with Salome. But where would she be able to find her, anyway? She heard that Salome’s netherworld was in much better condition now that her Mana has been restored, so would she be there? Or she could be in Zetta’s netherworld, since she did go there often too…

She groaned, crossing her arms. “Ugh, great… Life as a regular overlord sure isn’t easy. If I had been an oracle, I would be able to know where she is without even needing to think about it!” She stomped her foot in frustration once, but then sighed and waved her arm dismissively. “Whatever. I’ll just check her netherworld first. It’s still early, so she might not have gone anywhere yet.”

Satisfied with her thought process, she decided to warp to Salome’s netherworld. The light blue aura surrounded her and within seconds, she had vanished.

* * * * *

She appeared in a field covered with vibrant green grass and brightly colored flowers of many various types. The sky even was a bright blue, with white puffy clouds to match. The sight was so…cheerful. It made her want to gag, but she contained the urge.

“It sure does look different here, though… Salome’s Mana must be doing pretty great, because the whole place looked dead last I saw.” She spoke absently to herself as she began to walk, wondering how far she was from Salome’s castle.

Normally she could have warped directly to the castle, but she had never actually been there, so she wasn’t sure where its exact location was. And even if she did, there’d probably be tons of guards ready to have her head on a stick, so that’d be a lot of extra confusion that she wasn’t really looking forward to. So, even if it is more of a pain, it’s probably better to find it the old-fashioned way.

After a while of aimlessly wandering around, she finally began to see some actual people. Townsfolk, no doubt. She walked to a woman with long blonde hair and a dark purple dress—who unmistakably must be a cleric.

“Hey, you know Salome, right? Where’s her castle?” She placed a hand on her hip, before having another thought and continuing. “Oh, and is she even there right now? I _really_ don’t wanna have wasted my time coming here.”

The woman looked to her with slight confusion, before suddenly giving a low gasp. “Oh my, you are Pram the Oracle! I’ve heard many great things about you, Lady Pram, but I never expected to meet you in-person!”

Her eye twitched at the mention of “oracle,” not exactly wanting to be reminded of that status. But clearly, that shows that not everyone in the netherworlds knows the truth of that matter, so maybe it was actually a good thing. She instead crossed her arms, sighing. “A huge fan, right? Thanks, but sorry, I’m not gonna tell your fortune. So if you could just answer my question, that’d be great.”

She looked somewhat surprised, but then quickly nodded. “O-oh, yes! Lady Salome’s castle is north from here, so if you keep going this way, you’ll find it eventually. I cannot say for sure if she is home, but she usually doesn’t leave the castle this early, so I believe she might be there.” She grinned, holding her hands on her cheeks in amazement. “Ahh, I never thought I’d have the opportunity to answer an _oracle’s_ questions… What a high honor!” She giggled to herself with glee.

Pram looked quite unhappy with the woman’s fangirling, but she decided to ignore it, simply satisfied to have gotten an answer. “Uh-huh, sure. Thanks for the help.” She resumed walking, disregarding the woman who was still eagerly babbling about how amazing it was to talk to an oracle.

In the past, she would have been grateful to have people looking up to her. In fact, she would have _demanded_ that they do. But now…it just felt like a waste. Their admiration was based on something that she wasn’t, so what was the point? Now all she had going for her was being an overlord, but they aren’t exactly hard to come by. Every netherworld has one. But not every netherworld has an oracle…

“Ughh, enough of that!” She growled to herself in annoyance. She was meeting with Salome so that she could _stop_ feeling bitter all the time, not to feel even worse! She just needed to get to that castle. And the sooner—the better.

She decided to focus on the matter at hand, determined to reach the castle. The woman said to go north, but she didn’t say how far it actually was. And as Pram would soon realize, it was pretty far.

By the time she finally arrived, she was quite tired from all the traveling. She crossed her arms with a huff. “Next time, I’m _definitely_ warping here…”

Standing in front of the large castle, she gazed at it with certainty. It undeniably must be the right place, at least. The castle was primarily dark blue in color, and quite intricately designed—definitely Salome’s taste. Although with how gothic it had looked, it would have matched the formerly dead landscape a lot better than the current bright and cheerful one. It was almost a shame, but alas, having great Mana power comes with a cost, she supposed…

She expected to have some trouble getting past the guards, but it was easier than expected. As soon as they realized who she was, they agreed to let her in. She was grateful for the convenience, but honestly, it was pretty poor management. Demons aren’t exactly known for being gracious, so even if they’re friends, they’ll try to steal the other person’s netherworld without a second thought. Salome’s really lucky that Pram is such a nice person. Or at least, that she came here with innocent intentions.

The inside of the castle was nothing special. Dark blue carpets, white walls along with fancy columns and the like—pretty much the usual. Demons rarely cared about decorating, so their castles were never very interesting. If anything, the only thing that reflects their individuality would be how the netherworld itself looks, often having an aesthetic suitable to the ruler. Pram’s netherworld was very snowy and always chilly, suitable for someone with such a strong affinity for ice magic—and a pretty cold personality.

Back to Salome’s castle, the only thing she did notice is that there had been a lot of photos of Salome and Zetta hanging around, and quite a few of Zetta by himself. Pram snickered at the sight. It was very unnatural for a demon to have such sentimentalities, so that would surely make for excellent blackmail later.

Pram searched the castle for a while, occasionally asking a vassal where Salome was. Many of them didn’t know anything—probably because they aren’t very good at their job—but one eventually said that she should be in the dining hall. With that information in mind, she was eventually able to find the room. And to her relief, there Salome sat, having just finished up her breakfast.

The blonde woman looked up, her red eyes briefly widening. “Pram? You didn’t tell me that you were coming over. In fact, you’ve never visited before… What’s the occasion?” She tilted her head in confusion, her short hair gently swaying from the motion.

She already had been dressed for the day, wearing her usual navy blue unitard, with it cut in a way that exposed a large amount of her cleavage and most of her torso, but it obscured the entirety of her legs. She wore a long white skirt over it, which only covered the front and back of her lower half. The outfit, overall, was quite tight and revealing—ironic given the woman’s rather modest personality.

Pram briefly shrugged as she walked closer, settling into one of the dining chairs. “Always time to start something new, right? But that’s not important now, anyway. You should really just be honored that I took time out of my busy day to come and pay you a visit.” She had her usual smug tone accompanied with a confident grin. She may not have felt very self-assured lately, but she sure could act like it, at least.

The older woman only chuckled at her remarks with a shake of her head. “Yes, I’m very honored…but knowing how you are, I’m sure you’ve come here for a particular reason. Am I wrong?”

She frowned, crossing her arms. “You’re certainly straight to the point, aren’t you?”

Salome gave a nod, still gently smiling. “Of course. How else would I be able to deal with Zetta all of the time? There’s no sugarcoating anything with him.”

Pram nodded this time. “Point taken.” She then looked away with a sigh, taking a moment to brace herself for what she needed to say.

She actually began to feel just a tad nervous, not even entirely sure about what she _should_ say. This was the first time that she’d be telling someone else about how she felt, so it was pretty awkward. But she came all this way for that sole purpose, so she really didn’t have a choice here. Taking one last deep breath, she began.

“Erm, well… I haven’t felt…right, lately.” She frowned, adding, “ever since _that_ day…”

Salome rose a questioning brow, crossing her arms. “That day?” She remained silent as she thought about it for a moment, then getting an idea. “Oh, could you mean the day that Zetta used the Sacred Tome to bring me back to life?”

Pram gave a stern nod. “Yes, that day. Ever since, I’ve had this really weird feeling, but I don’t really know why… I think it’s like sadness, but I’ve never felt it quite like this. It’s a sort of empty feeling, too… I just don’t get it at all.” She sighed, her frown growing. “I don’t have anyone else to talk to about this, so you’re the only one I thought might be able to help.” She looked to Salome, her ruby eyes sorrowfully pleading.

The woman listened intently, a soft expression present on her features. “Is that so… Well, I’m glad you decided to come to me with this.” She smiled thoughtfully. “I know that we have not had much time to get to know each other, but I would like for us to become closer. After all, we’re the only women in our little group of overlords. We could never discuss these sorts of things with the men—our inner feelings, and such...”

Pram nodded in agreement. “That’s what I thought, too. They’d just say something stupid, like how demons shouldn’t care about feelings or whatever…” She then scoffed, crossing her arms. “But don’t get me wrong, I usually don’t care about feelings either! Which…is part of the reason I’m so confused now.” She sighed with a shrug, shaking her head. “Something’s wrong with me, and I have no idea what. If only I were a real oracle, I’d know exactly what to do. But I’m not, so…” She trailed off, looking away sadly.

Salome shook her head, a small frown forming. “That may be true, but you don’t _need_ to be an oracle to figure these things out.” She resumed a neutral expression as she continued. “As demons, we often forget that we still do have emotions and feelings. We can feel happiness and sadness like anyone else, even if we don’t always realize it. So in times like these, we need to just forget about what’s appropriate for a demon, instead focusing on what it is that we feel.” She then tilted her head as she stared at the younger overlord. “You said that you’ve felt sad, along with a sense of emptiness, right? And it all started on that day, so we need to think about the events that occurred that could possibly cause sadness.”

“Right…” She said in agreement. They both remained silent for a minute, each thinking about what it could have been.

Salome was the first to speak up, frowning. “You aren’t…sad that I was revived, are you?” She looked genuinely hurt at the thought.

Pram quickly shook her head, frantically waving her arms to further prove her point. “No, not at all!” She then settled down somewhat, frowning faintly. “I think it’s a good thing that you were revived. If you weren’t, then Zetta would be whining and acting pathetic forever. And that would seriously be annoying…”

Salome then sighed in relief, nodding. “Ah, I’m glad then. But in that case, what else could have happened on that day to cause you grief?” She placed a hand on her cheek as she thought harder about it.

Grimacing, she laid her chin in her palm as she leaned on the table. “Well…I do have an idea, but…” She trailed off, looking away. “…I don’t know if you’ll like it...”

She had a look of confusion at the remark, raising an eyebrow. “Why would I not? I’m here to help you, after all. I certainly wouldn’t look down on whatever reason is making you upset.”

Pram then nodded, continuing somewhat reluctantly. “Well, if you say so…” After a few seconds, she finished her thought. “I think I might be sad…because Seedle is dead.”

Her eyes widened, clearly not expecting that answer. She stumbled a bit as she spoke. “O-oh…I see…” She mumbled to herself, evidently still surprised. She then continued, looking almost concerned. “Well, um…is there a particular reason you’re sad about that? I wasn’t aware that you two were close, but…” She tilted her head curiously. “Could it be that…you had a crush on him?”

This time Pram had been the one caught off-guard, shocked by the woman’s question. Her face instantly lit up in a heavy blush as she waved her arms back and forth again, looking quite annoyed. “What?! N-no way! That’s not it either!”

After a few seconds, she tried to regain her composure as she continued. “I think the reason I’m sad about it is…his death just left me with so many questions.” She sighed as she leaned back farther into her chair. “He could have easily killed me, Salome. And considering how most of the time it seemed like he might have just hated everyone, why would he _not_ kill me? It was the perfect opportunity, so it makes no sense. And as much as I want to ask him the reason, it’s just not possible anymore.” She looked away, her frown remaining. “I’ve been thinking about that day all the time, you know. I’ve even been dreaming about it. But what can I possibly do about it now?”

Salome remained quiet as she listened, nodding softly in understanding. “I see… You do raise a good point. I know very well how powerful Seedle is, and I would have expected him to ruthlessly kill anyone that interferes with his plans…” She pursed her lips as she crossed her arms, deep in thought. “I think…I might know of a way for you to solve this problem.”

Pram instantly perked up at that, leaning forward eagerly. “Wait…really? What is it? Come on, don’t leave me hanging!”

She frowned deeply, not looking very excited about her own idea. “I…honestly don’t recommend it. But…if you think it will make you feel better, then for your sake…” She sighed softly, then continued. “Why not use the Sacred Tome to wish him back to life?”

At that—Pram was speechless. That idea…why had she never thought of it? It was right in front of her all along, but she never even considered it! She must have been so concerned with being a mere fake oracle, that she forgot she actually could think of solutions on her own—that she didn’t need a prophecy to tell her what to do.

After a full minute, she finally spoke, her blank stare becoming one of frustration. “…I’m so stupid! Why did I never think of that?!” She questioned more to herself than anyone else, before finally looking back to Salome. “But wait, hold on. Everyone hates him—you included. Are you sure you’d be okay with me reviving him?”

She shook her head with a frown. “It is true that I don’t have fond feelings towards him, and he certainly does despise me. If you bring him back to life, I’m sure he’ll be attempting to kill me all of the time again. But…” She smiled kindly, shaking her head once more. “If that’s what it will take to make you happy again, then so be it. We can’t have our little prodigy being depressed all the time, now can we? How else will you be able to tease all of the other overlords and keep their egos in check?”

Pram gave a surprisingly cheerful smile at that, nodding. “That’s true. Zetta especially needs to be kept in check. I’m sure he’s been feeling waaay too good about himself now that he has his body and netherworld back.”

She nodded with a sigh. “You’re telling me… He can be a real handful nowadays—even I’ve been struggling to deal with him.” She smiled somewhat sheepishly.

Pram then stood, confidently grinning as she placed her hands on her hips. “Well, in that case…I guess it’s time to rewrite the Sacred Tome once more!” She looked to the older woman one last time, still smiling. “Thanks, Salome. You were actually surprisingly helpful. To repay you, I’ll make sure Seedle doesn’t try to kill you when he comes back, ‘kay?”

She chuckled, nodding. “I appreciate that. It may be difficult to stop him, but if anyone can do it…I believe that would be you. Good luck, Pram.”

With that, the young overlord was enveloped in her icy-blue aura—disappearing within seconds.

Now…it was time to go to the Forbidden Library!

* * * * *

Pram arrived at the Forbidden Library—home to the Sacred Tome—with no issues. It was located deep within Zetta’s netherworld, and as she had been there several times before, she could easily teleport to the exact location. Of course, there were quite a few guards there, so she used her magic to freeze them so that they wouldn’t get in the way. They didn’t put up much of a fight, although even if they did, she could have easily handled it.

She made her way through the various rooms of the library, which contrary to ordinary belief, did not look much like a library at all. It was huge, with tons of giant rooms that had no books in sight. There were a few spirits floating around, though. And only in the final room were there finally some books hanging around—literally. They were large books engraved with rather sinister patterns—such as eyes and skulls—just floating throughout the enormous room.

At the very end of the chamber—sat the Sacred Tome.

It was an aqua-blue book with a large dark blue orb embedded into the middle of it. It shone radiantly as it hovered in its containment vessel—a large skull-like sculpture. She broke the seal with ease, preparing to grab the book. But just as she reached for it, a familiar voice spoke.

“Uh-oh, you’re back. That means trouble.” The feminine and somewhat dense-sounding voice spoke. It was coming from, naturally, the Sacred Tome.

“Oh right, Trenia… I forgot about you being in there.” She said with a roll of her eyes, crossing her arms. “Aren’t books supposed to be silent? You’re kind of breaking a rule here, don’t you think?”

Trenia had been the young blue-haired girl that formerly hung around the overlords. Initially they hadn’t realized it, but she was actually the spirit of the Sacred Tome, having been released when Zetta confined himself to the tome. After Pram passed out in her attempt to bring Salome back, Trenia had decided to return her soul to the book so that Zetta could have his body back, thus allowing him to use the tome to revive Salome himself. Since then, Trenia and the Sacred Tome were returned to the Forbidden Library.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna try to change the future again... Last time you did that, you messed everything up. Are you _still_ trying to be a wannabe fortune teller?”

Pram instantly tensed up and scowled at the comment. “W-why, you little…” She clenched her hand into a fist, but quickly calmed herself. It was probably a bad idea to start a fight with Trenia, seeing as she needed her so that she can write her wish in the first place.

Sighing in submission, she spoke again. “I’ve already given up on being an oracle. I really was…just a wannabe fortune teller.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “So this time, I’m here for something different. I…I want to bring Overlord Seedle back.”

“Seedle? Isn’t he that guy who stabbed you? Why would you wanna bring him back? He was really grouchy and mean, too… You have weird taste.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “This isn’t about my taste in anything!” She looked away in annoyance, faintly blushing. “I just want to bring him back because…me changing the Sacred Tome is part of the reason he died in the first place, so I owe it to him. And I have a lot that I want to ask him too, so…” She frowned as she looked back to the tome, her eyes revealing a deep sadness. “Will you please let me make my wish?”

There was silence for a moment, but the book soon spoke once more.

“Well, you’re always pretty cranky too. So if this will make you act a little nicer, sure!”

“Wait, seriously? That was awfully easy…” Pram spoke quietly in disbelief. “Are you sure? You really will?”

“Yup. But keep in mind, it was very difficult for you to summon the Mana necessary to bring Salome back. Will you really have enough to revive Seedle?”

She was still pretty surprised, but she decided to ignore her shock and instead flash a confident grin. She then pointed to herself pridefully. “Of course I can. I’m Pram—one of the strongest freakin’ overlords there are!”

“Uhhh, if you say so. But don’t blame me if anything goes wrong!”

“It’ll be fine.” She said nonchalantly. She then grabbed the nearby pen as the Sacred Tome opened itself, flipping through its pages before arriving at a blank one. Pram stared at the page somewhat nervously as she held the pen.

“Okay, I can do this… I’m a prodigy—I took my father’s netherworld when I was two, and I had more than enough Mana to revive Salome. As long as I focus, reviving Seedle will be a piece of cake!” She uttered words of encouragement to herself as she gripped the pen tightly.

As she began to concentrate, her blue crystal-like aura began to envelop her. She stretched her arms, feeling the Mana begin to course through her body. Her eyes began to glow as they shone with fierce determination, her wings spreading widely and the wind around her beginning to whip ferociously from the magnitude of her power. Her appearance began to alter itself—her hands gradually transforming into large cat-like paws, as did her feet—along with the length of her dress becoming much shorter, losing the entirety of its formerly puffy design. As her power reached its peak after a few minutes, the alterations came to a stop.

Still gripping the pen—with even greater determination than before—she began to write in the tome her final wish.

_Overlord Seedle will be revived in the name of Overlord Pram._

She remained silent as she warily stared on, desperately hoping that the wish would not disappear as it had the last time—for it to deny the strength of her Mana power again would be…

“Your wish has been accepted! Overlord Seedle will be revived.”

Those words caused her to instantly grin, possibly more cheerfully than she ever had throughout her entire life. “I…I was really…strong…enough…” She spoke in between breaths, her smile becoming wearier by the second. Her appearance began to revert to normal, her Mana quickly subsiding as the aura around her began to fade. Ultimately, her happiness was short-lived—as she immediately collapsed from the excessive use of her power.

Despite her unconscious state, a smile remained present on her lips. She had been so happy, even without being able to see the dark crimson and purple aura slowly emerging behind her…

* * * * *

_Six Days Later_

“Mm…” The young girl mumbled groggily, turning over as she tightened her grip over her soft blue blanket. Moaning and moving around every so often has become a rather usual sight as of late—it’s the only thing she’s done for the past week.

The man who had been sitting on a nearby stool gave an exasperated sigh, wearily holding his cheek in the palm of his hand. “Damn, she sleeps more than that old fool Babylon… I’m starting to think she might never wake up.”

He tried to make light of it, but his patience was growing thin. With how long she’s been asleep, and how she showed no signs of waking—this was getting to be a real pain. If she didn’t wake up soon, he may as well just go back home. He’s been staying in her netherworld so that he could keep an eye on her recovery, but at this rate, it could be years before she finally wakes…

Once more, he sighed deeply as he leaned back, his elbows resting on the large vanity behind him. The ends of his wavy silver ponytail had been laying on the floor, due to its great length. He had looked the same as he often did—his olive complexion complimented by the dark green of his loose kimono. Although it could be said that he hardly wore it at all, given how it only hung over one of his shoulders—exposing the majority of his bare chest and torso while also showing off his long zig-zag-like scar.

He wore dark brown tattsuke-bakama-styled hakama, as well as an armor plate on each leg, with brown tabi-socks and white geta to match. The outfit was completed by the large red hoop earrings that hung from his pointed ears and the black eyepatch that covered his right eye—though the latter wasn’t an accessory as much as a necessity.

After a few more minutes of his idle pondering, he sat up straight. “Well, looks like it won’t be today either… Guess it’s time to go.” He looked to the girl, frowning, as he stood. He then took a few steps towards the door, but by the time he reached for the knob, he stopped in his tracks—detecting more noise than usual from the girl.

“Hrmm…” She grumbled weakly as she began to shift, which ended up causing her excruciating pain. She winced with a groan, her eyes slowly starting to open. “Urghh… Why am I so…sore…” She slowly raised her hand to her forehead, which had been pounding violently.

The man’s eye widened as he turned to her, his frown quickly making way for a faint smile. “Ahh finally… It’s about time.” He raised his arm in a quick wave. “Morning, Sunshine.”

Hearing that familiar husky voice caused her to instantly sit up in shock, which proved to be a terrible idea, as it made her pain incredibly worse. It sent her into an instant recoil, but she tried to ignore it for the moment, instead focusing her attention on the man standing across the room. She rubbed her eyes, worried that her fatigue may be causing her to imagine things. But no, he was definitely standing there. The sight caused her to give a strained smile.

“S-Seedle! You…you’re back!” She said in amazement, leaning forward as much as she could without causing herself further pain. “So I really did it… I was really strong enough to make the wish!”

He took a step closer as he nodded. “Yeah, you were. It sure as hell kicked your ass, though. You’ve been out for six days straight.”

Her eyes widened, frowning. “That long? I guess it could be worse, but still…” She mumbled to herself as she placed a hand on her chin, deep in thought.

“Worse?” He chuckled, placing a hand on his hip. “You’re lucky it wasn’t any worse. Another day and I would have just gone back home.”

She didn’t pay any mind to the statement at first, before suddenly looking back to the man and grimacing. “Wait a minute…what are you doing in my bedroom anyway?! How long have you been in here?”

He rolled his crimson eyes—or at least, the one not concealed by an eyepatch—in annoyance. “Not even five minutes and you’re already yelling at me? You ought of be a little happier to see me, you know.” Crossing his arms, he shook his head dismissively. “Women…” He muttered to himself.

“I am glad to see you…sort of. But that doesn’t mean I trust you being in my room while I’m asleep!” She crossed her arms with a pout. “Especially given your…history…”

“Yeah yeah…” He sighed, waving his arm apathetically. “Believe me, I didn’t do anything. That’d be a pretty crappy way to return the favor to someone that went out of their way to bring me back to life. Even I have more honor than that.” He looked to the side, maintaining a neutral expression. “And it’s not like I’ve been in your room the entire time, either. I’ve just been checking in on you a few times, to see if you were awake yet.”

“Hm… All right then. Good.” Satisfied with his response, she started to stand, but her pain quickly proved to be too much to bear. It caused her to stumble and begin to fall—only for the man to take notice, dashing across the room and catching her in an instant, then holding her up princess-style.

She looked up at him as he held her in his arms, suddenly feeling very small in comparison to his towering height. She blushed fiercely before crossing her arms and looking away. After a few seconds, she finally spoke. “…Thanks, but…you can put me down now.”

He rose an eyebrow, seemingly alarmed by the request. “Uh, you sure about that? If you haven’t noticed, you’re in no condition to stand—or do anything.” He then gave a mischievous grin. “Will I need to carry the little princess around all day?”

“…Put me down before I send you back to the afterlife. Over there.” She spoke sternly as she pointed to the vanity.

“Would you? That’d be a sight to see—a girl that can’t even stand up properly somehow being able to kill me!” He began laughing, although Pram clearly didn’t find it to be very funny. His laughter then ceased, sighing as he finally set her onto the chair. “…Oh well, that’ll be a battle for another day.”

Ignoring him, she grabbed her nearby brush, preparing to brush her rather messy hair. Although it was such a simple act, it was made impossible as waves of pain swiftly began to rush through her arms. She immediately cringed, causing her to drop the brush. She sighed in exasperation as it clattered to the floor. “Great… I suspected I’d be weakened after making the wish, but this is just ridiculous. How am I supposed to even go about my life like this?”

As she turned to reach for the fallen brush, Seedle knelt down and grabbed it first. She held her hand out so that he could return it to her, but he merely shook his head, still holding onto it. She grimaced, not sure what he was getting at. “Uh, are you gonna give me back my brush or what?”

He sighed wearily. “Didn’t I just tell you this? You can’t do anything in that condition. Just stay still.” He stepped closer to her, grabbing a few locks of her hair and beginning to comb through them. Despite his abrasive exterior, he was actually quite gentle—taking extra care to avoid hurting her in the process.

She gulped; her expression visibly flustered as she stared at him through the reflection in the mirror. Was…was this really happening? This evil, monster of a demon that everyone hates…was in her room…brushing her hair. It sounded so absurd that she was almost certain that she was actually still asleep and merely dreaming. In fact, it sounded too absurd to even be a dream, either…

After a minute, she sighed dejectedly, finally ready to ask the question that’s been echoing in her mind. “…Why are you doing this?”

“Because your hair’s a goddamn mess, obviously.”

“T-that’s not what I mean!” She hissed in frustration. “You don’t need to take care of me. I just need to rest for a little while, and then I’ll be fine.” She crossed her arms, looking to the side. “But…why would you even want to help me, anyway? Is this just because I revived you? If it is, you don’t need to worry about it—I don’t need you to repay me or anything…”

The strange statement caused him to momentarily pause his work, tilting his head out of confusion. “Huh?” He mumbled quietly, puzzled. “I mean…you did revive me, so it’s only fair that I help you out too. But that’s not the actual reason I’m doing it.”

She rose a questioning brow, uncertain. “And the reason is?”

“Because I like you.”

His bluntness caused her to instantly tense up, strongly frowning. “W-wha… What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What do you _think_ it means?” He crossed his arms, still wearing an expression of confusion as he wondered what was so difficult to understand about it. “It means…I like you.” Sighing deeply, he grimaced. “What, do you really want me to say we’re friends or something? That’s so corny…”

Pram’s eyes seemed to light up at his remark, stunned. “Wait…you think of me as a friend..? Really?” She looked down, a faint frown present on her lips. “But…I always thought you hated everyone…”

“Nah, don’t get me wrong—I do.” He scratched the back of his head nonchalantly. “Zetta’s so egotistical that it really pisses me off, Salome’s a bitch, that insolent child Alex needs to learn his place—need I go on?”

“N-no, I get it…” She mumbled in bewilderment. “But in that case…what do you actually think of me?” She looked down in an attempt to hide her slight blush.

She did feel pretty uncomfortable asking the question, but at this point—she had to know the answer. With such strong feelings of resentment towards the other overlords, what could possibly be so different about Pram?

“Uhh… I’ve just never had any reason to dislike you. You’re much less annoying than all of the other overlords. Plus, you’re the only person that talks crap about them as much as I do.” He gave a half-shrug. “I guess I was right to like you better than them too— _you’re_ the one that ended up reviving me.”

Well…his reasons were pretty lackluster, but she figured that was probably to be expected. He’s definitely not the touchy-feely kind of guy, that was for sure. So, she got the sense that those “compliments” might be the best she’d ever get out of him.

Seedle resumed brushing her hair, which had only been about half-finished. “What have they been saying about me, anyway? Have they had a big celebration in honor of my death yet?”

She giggled somewhat nervously with a shake of her head. “Actually, they haven’t mentioned you at all.”

Her blunt words caused him to instantly scowl, shaking his head in annoyance. “It figures… Well, not that it matters. I’m sure they’ll be celebrating soon enough, once they realize I’m back. They’ll soon realize they can’t get rid of me that easily!” He laughed boisterously, already eagerly anticipating the moment he’d get to see all of their stupid faces once they see that he’s truly alive and well.

After another minute, he took a step back, now finished with her hair. “All right, I’m done here. What else do you need?”

“Oh, um…” She mumbled, beginning to think. “I should probably get changed; I’ve been wearing this outfit for all this time… Could you grab me a dress from my closet?”

Seedle nodded before walking across the room to the closet, opening its door and beginning to search through it. Pram couldn’t say she was too thrilled to have him digging through her clothes, but it’s not like she had much of a choice—she still felt awfully weak. And on the other hand…it _was_ sort of nice having someone to wait on her. Maybe she could get used to it…

“This better be good enough...” He mumbled after finally pulling out a pale blue dress with short white sleeves and a big red ribbon on the chest, along with white lace on the hems. He held it up so she could see as he returned to her side.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks.” She reached for it, but he suddenly pulled it farther away.

Giving a playful smirk, he shook his head as he wagged his finger in a scolding motion. “Now, hold on… Aren’t you still too weak to get dressed yourself? I’d hate for you to get hurt—so I’d surely be glad to help.”

It took her a few seconds to comprehend what he was implying—her face forming a heavy blush as soon as she did. “Y-you… Just get out of my room!” She leaned forward, quickly grabbing the dress from him. She clutched it close to her chest, then looked away from the man with a severe pout.

“Fine, fine…” He shrugged in surrender as he retreated towards the door, then exiting the room.

After he left, Pram looked to the closed door, still pouting as she thought about his remark. “Well, his stupid jokes aside…” Her frown gradually faded, beginning to form a small but cheerful smile. “I can’t believe it… He’s been checking on me for all of this time, and even now, he’s still trying to help me…” Her smile grew as she turned back, staring into her reflection. “I knew it, he really isn’t so bad after all. He even said we’re friends…”

Her smile soon faded as her expression turned serious. “…But I can’t worry about that right now. I revived him for a reason, so it’s time to follow-up on it. I need to find the answers I’ve been looking for…”

* * * * *

“All right, all finished…” Pram mumbled to herself, lighting tugging on the ends of her slim-fitting dress to readjust it some. It took a while, but she somehow managed. Getting dressed while you’re sitting down and also extremely sore proved to be more annoying than she expected, much to her dismay. For the briefest of moments, she did consider calling Seedle back to help, but she immediately expelled the thought from her mind. That was a road she was _not_ going to go down…

So with that out of the way, she had a new problem—she needed to stand.

“I took a while, so Seedle’s probably gone by now. Looks like I’m on my own here…” She mumbled glumly to herself. “Whatever, I don’t need him anyway! I can do this myself, no problem.” She grinned confidently, crossing her arms with glee. “What kind of an overlord isn’t strong enough to stand, anyway? Please!”

Satisfied with her ego-boost, she decided to take matters into her own hands. She retained a tight grip onto the edge of her vanity as she very slowly and carefully lifted herself from the chair. At first, it seemed to be working.

But as soon as she removed all pressure from the seat, standing entirely on her own legs—she collapsed, her forehead taking a direct hit from the vanity as she descended.

“O-ow…!” Her already-aching head now felt many times worse as she weakly rubbed the position of her injury. To her relief, it wasn’t bleeding at the least.

“What’s with all that noise? You all right in there?”

The masculine voice resounded from behind the door. She turned to it, her expression quickly shifting into one of deep frustration. He never actually left; she could have just called him to begin with…

“Does it sound like I’m all right?!” She yelled in annoyance, severely grimacing.

“Oh. All right, I’m coming in then.” He announced before slowly opening the door. He surveyed the room with a look of confusion, unsure of where the girl even was. Eventually, he noticed her on the floor, then chuckled with a grin. “Well now… Guess you should have let me help after all!”

“…Put a sock in it.”

“I’m not wrong, though.” He shrugged before strolling over to her, then lifting her up effortlessly. After a few seconds of blankly staring at her, he tilted his head inquisitively. “Huh. I like this outfit better, it’s a lot easier to lift you than when you had on that helium-filled thing you call a dress.” He waved his arms around somewhat, demonstrating the ease of movement he still had.

Scoffing, she looked away in annoyance. “Well I’m just _so_ glad it’s to your liking. I wouldn’t want to cause you any extra trouble, now would I?” She spat sarcastically, evidently frustrated.

“I would hope not.” He spoke indifferently, ignoring the sarcasm. “So, where to now, Princess?”

She was going to complain about the nickname, but she remained in silence as she instead opted to think. After a few moments, she decided. “We need to talk, but not here. Take me downstairs.”

Sighing, he nodded. “Not even a please… You’re awfully bossy, you know that?” Despite his grumbling, he did follow her demand.

Her castle was rather large, so Pram gave him the directions to the dining hall. It would be a good place to sit and talk—plus, she was pretty hungry.

As they roamed the many halls, Seedle eventually sighed in exhaustion. “You overlords and your damn castles, always having so many pointless rooms and halls all for your stupid aesthetics… I’m almost beginning to miss the Underworld. At least we only have rooms for what we actually _need_ there.”

“Well, I guess we can’t all have your _amazing_ taste in interior design.” She rolled her eyes. “What do you have anyway—corpses and fire everywhere? How fancy.”

“It’s better than ice and snow all over the place. Who the hell wants to live in that?” He spat in annoyance, glaring at the ice-covered interior of the castle. “And it’s freezing in here! I’d take my fiery Underworld over this crap any day.”

She scoffed, looking away in disgust. “W-well..! Maybe if you actually wore your shirt correctly, you wouldn’t be so cold! Who walks around with their clothes only half-on? No one, other than morons!”

“It’s a style, and it’s very popular with samurai!” He retorted in annoyance. “Besides, are you really one to complain about other people’s clothes? You—the one who walks around wearing giant handcuffs for the hell of it?”

She attempted to respond, but really couldn’t argue it. Sighing, she yielded. “Fine, whatever… We _both_ have weird fashion sense, then.” Deciding to change the subject, she continued.

“But anyway… If you really don’t like it in my netherworld, why didn’t you just go back to the Underworld? You didn’t have to stay here all this time.”

He shook his head. “I already told you, I had to keep an eye on you to make sure you were all right. Obviously, it’s easier to do that if I hang around here. Although, I did go back once.” He frowned with a light shrug. “It’s a mess. They’ve been having all kinds of wars to decide who would become the next ruler after I died. So naturally, I’ll be returning to get their asses in line and show them who their _real_ boss is soon enough.”

“Hm, I do remember hearing something about that…” She agreed with a nod. Then, after a minute of silence, she spoke again. “Well, now that I’m awake, I guess you can go back now, right? You could just leave today.”

“No.”

“Wait…huh?” Her eyes widened at his sudden statement. “W-what do you mean ‘no’? You were just staying until I recovered, so now you can leave!”

“If you were recovered, then I wouldn’t be carrying you all over the place, now would I?” He looked down at her with a chuckle, shaking his head. “Trust me, you’ll be getting rid of me soon enough. Whenever you’re well enough to walk, I’ll be out of here.”

“Maybe so, but…you really don’t need to do that.” She looked up to him, frowning. “You know I do have vassals, right? They can just take care of me—it’s kind of their job.”

“What, do you just not want _me_ to take care of you? That’s hurtful.” He mockingly sniffled, not actually concerned about it. “Besides, you’re only in this condition because of you wishing me back to life. Believe it or not, I’m thankful for that—so this is how I’ll repay you. It’s the least I can do.”

She seemed surprised, her eyes were widened and her mouth agape. After a moment, she finally spoke. “Wow…you’re actually sort of a nice person? Who would have thought!” Grinning smugly, she snickered.

He sighed, sternly shaking his head. “Sure, say what you want, but keep in mind I could drop you at any minute. I wonder if I’ll still be such a nice person then?” He then smirked, with her giving no response other than a frustrated sigh.

After a few more minutes of exploring, he ended up finding the dining hall. It was a sizable room with a long white table centered in the middle, with elegantly designed white chairs to match. And like all of the other rooms in the castle—it was freezing, a strong chilly breeze drifting throughout the area.

He set Pram into one of the chairs, then went around the table to the opposite side, plopping into a seat. He then wasted no time before starting to complain again, looking rather irritated.

“This is a dining room, but it’s even colder than the rest of the rooms! What are you even supposed to eat in here—ice cream?” He shuddered before deciding to pull his shirt up, placing his other arm into its usually empty sleeve.

“I like cold food.” She spoke nonchalantly with a shrug. “Besides, you’re actually wearing your shirt like a normal person now! Looks like the temperature did some good for everyone.”

He sent her an icy glare—although it wasn’t as icy as the room itself. Pram ignored it as she then decided to move onto business. This was it—she was finally going to ask him the questions she’s been dying to ask for so long…

If she was being honest, she wasn’t actually as nervous as she expected to be. She thought that maybe it was because of how their conversations have unfolded thus far. He may have been pretty rude most of the time, but he wasn’t hard to talk to. She was thankful for that, since it would make things a little easier.

“Okay, so…” She began, looking towards him with a neutral expression. “You’re probably curious about why I decided to revive you in the first place, right?”

“No, not really.” He spoke nonchalantly, appearing completely disinterested.

“Wha- Well why not?!” She placed her hands on her hips in annoyance. Maybe this conversation wouldn’t go as simply as she expected…

Seedle gave a half shrug, shaking his head. “I wasn’t really worried about it. I just figured you must have been really sad about me dying—probably because you have a crush on me, right?” He shot her a smug grin, only adding to her annoyance.

“I-I do not!” Her face lit up in a blush as she deeply pouted, looking away in annoyance. “Stop joking around, I’m being serious!”

He tilted his head in confusion. “But I am being serious…” He mumbled to himself, almost sounding genuinely sad about it.

“Whatever, I’m moving on!” She spat in frustration. Attempting to calm herself, she returned to a stern expression and looked back towards him.

“All right, so I’ll start from the beginning… You probably don’t know this, but…I’m not actually a real oracle. All of my prophecies were fake—I only was able to know everything that would happen because I read what the Sacred Tome foretold of the future.” She nervously watched his expression, very much expecting him to laugh or make some sort of snarky remark.

“Okay.” His expression held no emotion whatsoever—it was the perfect poker-face.

“O-okay?” She questioned, her eyes wide in surprise. “That’s it? No smartass comments this time?”

He grimaced, shrugging. “To be honest, I don’t really give a crap if you can see the future or not. I’m not into fortunetelling, so it never affected me in the least.”

That answer…was actually not very surprising at all. He just doesn’t care, of course. That probably was for the best, so she opted to continue.

“Okay, well... The next part of this story is that one day, while reading the Sacred Tome, I decided to alter it—just a little. I wanted to make another prophecy that would come true, thus earning me even more respect from the overlords. Annnd I did think it would be pretty amusing, too.” She smiled sheepishly. “I wrote in the tome that Zetta is stupid, and that his foolishness would end up destroying his netherworld. Lo and behold, that’s exactly what happened.”

At that, Seedle had burst out laughing—the boisterous sound loudly echoing throughout the room. After he finally regained his composure almost a full minute later, he spoke. “Really? _You_ are the reason that happened? That’s hilarious!” He chuckled again, shaking his head in amusement. “That Zetta really is an idiot—he had it coming. In fact, even if you didn’t write that, I bet he would have ended up doing the same thing anyway!”

She chuckled this time, somewhat nervously. “Yeah, he might have… But…” She trailed off, frowning. “Because of me writing that, it basically set into motion all of the events that had happened after that. So, likewise…I sort of indirectly caused your death.” She looked to him anxiously, uneasily twirling a lock of her hair around her finger.

“Oh, that so?” He sounded awfully indifferent, not concerned in the slightest. “So let me guess, you felt so bad about it that you decided to revive me in order to make up for it. Am I right?”

“Yes, that’s part of it. But there’s something else, too.” She crossed her arms, bracing herself to ask her next question.

She then looked to him sternly. “Seedle…I need to know. Why didn’t you kill me back then? You had the perfect opportunity to, but you purposely held back… Why?”

He nodded, now understanding where she was really going with this. “Ahh, so that’s what this is about. Well…” He scratched the back of his head indifferently, frowning as he thought about it. “This might disappoint you, but I don’t have a profound reason for it. I just didn’t need to kill you, so I didn’t. As long as I was able to stop you from bringing Salome back, then my job was done.”

Seedle’s frankness caused her to instantly frown, not at all happy with that answer. “Really? That’s it—there was nothing else that might have influenced your decision?”

He rubbed his chin, thoughtfully thinking about it. After a moment, he spoke again. “Ehh…you’re kind of cute too, I guess...” He remarked indifferently.

She instantly blushed at the comment, which only served to annoy her even more. “H-huh..? Wait, that’s not a good reason, either!”

He sighed deeply, quite exasperated. “Well, besides that… I’m generally not interested in killing women. Even when I had been a human, that’s how I felt too. It must have stuck with me for all of this time.”

She nodded, thinking that made sense, but suddenly remembered something that made the statement very questionable. “That’s nice and all, but it’s a little hard to believe that when you’ve dedicated your afterlife to killing Salome—who’s obviously a woman.”

He immediately scoffed, waving his arms in frustration. “I said generally! That bitch killed me in my human life—of course I’m gonna get my revenge!”

“Actually, that’s where you’re wrong.” She grinned smugly. “You aren’t gonna get your revenge, since I promised Salome that after bringing you back, I’d make sure you don’t try anything.”

“What?!” His voice was fueled with rage as his eye widened in disbelief. “Listen, I’m grateful and all for you reviving me, but there’s no way you can stop me. She’s gonna die, and this time—I’ll make sure she stays dead.” He spoke confidently, a proud smile gracing his formerly angered features.

“Nah, you won’t.”

He rose an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he leaned towards the girl. “Oh? All right then… So how exactly will you stop me?”

“By explaining to you why it’s a stupid idea.” She gave a nonchalant shrug before beginning her explanation.

“If you kill Salome, Zetta will just use the Sacred Tome to bring her back again. Then, he’ll kill you. Or maybe Alex will again—in which he’ll once again say that you screamed like a little girl. And since you’ll have wasted so much of my precious time, I’m sure I won’t feel like bringing you back again. So, you’ll stay dead this time and therefore, you’ll have come back to life for literally no reason. Keeping up so far?”

Seedle scoffed, laughing at her remarks. “I’m not afraid of Zetta, and I’m certainly not afraid of that little punk Alex.” He then scowled, shaking his head. “And for the record, I did _not_ scream like a little girl. With a voice as masculine as mine, that wouldn’t even be possible!”

“Yeah, sure.” She waved her hand dismissively, then giving a yawn to emphasize her lack of interest. “Buuut that little punk still _did_ kill you once, though. So maybe you should rethink that—just a bit.”

He rolled his eye at that, clearly agitated. “Only because he pulled such an underhanded and dishonorable tactic—attacking a man while he was distracted…” He grumbled to himself as he looked away, frustrated as he thought back to the events of that day.

Pram rose a brow at that remark, looking towards the man as she rested her cheek in the palm of her hand. “Oh, really? Well why were you so distracted, then?” She sounded fairly disinterested, looking as though she didn’t actually believe him. But truthfully, the statement did pique her interest as she wondered what the reason could be.

Seedle suddenly looked caught off-guard, almost as if he just realized he said something that he shouldn’t have. After a few seconds of thinking, he shook his head as he casually leaned back into the chair. “N-never mind, it’s nothing…” He tried to sound indifferent, but his stumbling and nervous demeanor proved that to be a mere act.

“It’s most certainly not nothing!” She retorted as she leaned forward, not bothering to hide her own interest in the topic. “If you’re implying that you wouldn’t have been killed if not for this _distraction_ of yours, then what is it?” She asked once more, before turning her head and giving a cheeky smirk. “That is—unless you’re just bluffing. Maybe you really are just a weakling that got killed by some kid, so now you’re just making excuses for it…”

His expression immediately dropped at that—becoming blank and deadpan. Instead of reacting with anger, he simply sighed deeply, crossing his arms. “If you really must know, then fine… But first, how much did those idiots tell you about what happened after you passed out?”

Pram tilted her head to the side as she thought about it. “Well… They didn’t tell me much, nothing other than Alex showing up to kill you, and the reason they were able to revive Salome after everything happened.” She looked to him, somewhat puzzled. “Why? Was there something else?”

“Ha… Of course, they left out the actual reason I was there in the first place.” He rolled his eye in annoyance, shaking his head. “I didn’t go there just to attack you—or anyone, for that matter.” He leaned back farther into his chair, thinking back to the events of that day.

“I heard that Salome had finally succumbed to her illness, which was unfortunate—because I wanted to kill her myself. Still, her dying by that method could prove amusing, so I planned to go and see how foolish Zetta must have looked—to see his expression as he finally realizes that his idiocy caused the death of the woman he loved. But what do I find, instead?”

His indifferent expression gradually turned to a scowl. “Instead of merely wallowing in his misery—he’s attempting to bring Salome back to life!” He spat in annoyance, his hand harshly gripping the edge of the table in his frustration. “That fool was unable to accept his own faults, so he instead tried to cheat death… The sight only served to anger me even more, so I did the first thing I could think of. Which was—stopping the ritual, of course.”

Beginning to calm down, his expression became more peaceful as he returned his gaze to the woman across from him. “…Truthfully, I didn’t expect you to be helping him with his ridiculous desire. But with that being the case, attacking you was the only option I had. Still, I had no intention of killing you, so I tried to hold back most of my strength.” He gave a quiet sigh, moving on to the next point of the explanation.

“After that, my mission was basically finished. I stopped you from bringing her back, so I decided to explain the situation to Zetta.” He grimaced, shaking his head. “The moron still didn’t realize that Salome had been giving him her Mana for all of that time—or maybe he was just in denial of it. But being the kind and honest man that I am, I told him everything. Unsurprisingly, he still wanted to deny it, unwilling to accept that he had been so blind to something so obvious.” He waved his hand dismissively as he resumed a neutral expression.

“Having told him everything, I was ready to turn to a different aspect of the situation. But before I could—that idiot Alex showed up.” Folding his arms together, he sighed begrudgingly. “That self-righteous fool thought he was doing Zetta a favor by killing me, but it accomplished nothing! It’s not as if I planned to kill Zetta—I had more important things to worry about than tearing apart a book.”

Pram had been listening intently to his story the entire time, very interested in hearing this side of the tale. It was definitely different than what Zetta told her, so the extra insight was quite useful. But as he finished his explanation, her expression grew puzzled. “But wait… What different aspect?” Tilting her head in confusion, she frowned. “Does that have something to do with you being distracted during the fight?”

Seedle nodded once, his expression very stern. “Yeah, it does. And the reason I was distracted, well…” He looked to the distance, seemingly determined to avoid eye contact with the girl. “…I was going to check on you…and take you to the netherworld hospital to be treated.”

It took her a couple of seconds to process the words, only to give a low gasp once she did. “W-wait…you’re kidding…right?” She asked as a faint blush began to grow on her cheeks, causing her to look down in embarrassment. “You… You wouldn’t have… There’s no way…”

“No, I’m serious.” He returned his gaze to her, his face showing no signs of humor. “As I said, I did what I needed to do, so I was ready to leave. But I couldn’t help feeling somewhat…bad, about attacking you. You were only trying to help that idiot, so there was no reason for my grudge towards Salome to end up causing you harm. Therefore, it was only fair that I take you to get your injuries treated.” He sighed as he leaned back into the chair, once again turning away. “Of course, Alex ruined that. Before I could do anything, he already was yelling and using his stupid special move, so I was unable to defend myself.”

At that, Pram had been speechless. If those words were true—which she didn’t doubt them—then that would mean that Seedle had died…because of her.

She held her hand to her chest, a soft frown present in her expression. “So, you might have survived…if not for me…” She mumbled to herself sadly.

He noticed her grief, but gave a nod, nevertheless. “Yeah, I would have.” He then placed his arms behind his head, leaning back nonchalantly. “But I’m not blaming you, so don’t worry about it. I was the one that hurt you in the first place, so if I die because of it, guess that’s my karma.” He sent a grin towards her, causing her to perk up somewhat.

“I guess that’s true.” She agreed with a small smile.

“Only thing that _does_ piss me off about it is that the impudent kid must be going around acting as if he won in a fair battle! One of these days, he’s getting his ass kicked.” He closed his eye as he thought about it, already looking forward to that day.

“Yeah…maybe.”

His eye shot open as he instantly turned towards her. “Wh-what do you mean ‘maybe’?! There’s no doubt about it!”

“Sure…if you say so.” She said with a smug grin.

The conversation quickly turned into an argument, and thus went on for a while. Seedle was determined to beat up Alexander, and also threatened to do it right at that moment a few times, while Pram cynically doubted his abilities. Considering they had such a long and serious conversation, their ability to get side-tracked and start arguing over something so irrelevant was pretty amazing.

And while she may have joked about it before, the entire conversation did prove something to her. No matter what the other overlords may say, Seedle _is_ a good person. Or at least, he is to Pram. But that fact was more than enough for her, so she was satisfied.

* * * * *

_One Week Later_

“Ahh…”

The girl let out a small yawn as her eyes slowly drifted open, revealing the bright contents of her bedroom—the sun’s blinding rays pouring in from the window.

She gently rubbed the sleepiness out of her eyes, then slowly began to sit up. She stood as she started to think about what her plans for the day were. As she stood in contemplation, she soon gasped.

“Wait a minute… I don’t feel weak at all!” She said in awe as she realized that she was actually standing, without even a single sliver of pain anywhere in her body. This revelation came as quite the surprise, seeing as she’s been debilitated for the entirety of the past week.

She’s been stuck in her castle the entire time, slowly but surely recovering a bit more each day. She came close to standing a few times in the last few days, but she was unable to without a very excessive pain holding her back. But now, she felt great! It was truly a day worthy of commemoration.

Pram was so excited from the news that she didn’t even bother getting ready for the day yet. She happily strolled over to her door, opening it so passionately that it nearly broke off of its hinges.

“A-arghh!”

It almost seemed as if the door was in pain, but in actuality the noise came from the man that had been sitting beside it—who now had a very reddened and pained face from the impact of the door slamming into it. He instantly held his hands over his face as he cringed from the throbbing. Then, looking up to the girl—who was still grinning without a care in the world—he scowled. “Oh, great… The first thing you do after getting over your injuries is to injure _me_!”

Looking down at him, she gave a light shrug as she continued to grin smugly. “Oops, sorry!” The apology didn’t sound sincere at all. “This is just such a big day, you know. I was just _so_ excited to tell you I’m all better!”

“Yeah, well next time you can tell me without breaking my face…” He grumbled as he looked away in annoyance.

Seedle had continued to stay in Pram’s netherworld throughout the week so that he could help take care of her. He did everything she asked of him—carrying her everywhere, cooking for her, washing her laundry… Naturally, he complained about all of it, but he still did it. And since he needed to be nearby at all times in case she needed him, that’s why he would often sit outside her door as he waited for her to wake up. Although, if he knew that she would be waking up and slamming the door open today, he probably would have picked a better spot to sit…

“Anyway, I have to get ready. Go downstairs and wait for me, ‘kay?” With that demand, she instantly went back into her room and closed the door, not bothering to wait for his answer.

Pram had gone about getting ready so excitedly that there was definitely a hop in her step. Seeing her with such a cheerful demeanor was definitely out of the ordinary, but she couldn’t help it. As much as she did enjoy having Seedle as her personal servant, the ability to do things herself again was certainly exhilarating. It gave her such a renewed sense of freedom—even if it was only the same freedom that she used to have a week ago. Still, it was nice.

She wore her usual white poofy dress, which had been freshly washed by Seedle. Her silky hair was also brushed to perfection, not a single strand out of place. Overall, she looked very cute, if she did say so herself. But despite that—Seedle took no notice.

He had been in the living room, sitting lazily on the plush blue couch. Hearing the soft footsteps, he turned towards the doorway. His gentle expression immediately turned to one of frustration. “It’s about damn time!” The man spat in annoyance upon seeing the woman finally enter the room. “What the hell took so long? It’s been over an hour!”

Pram shrugged nonchalantly, taking a seat on the white cushioned chair across from him. “Beauty takes time and effort, duh.” She then looked him up and down, snickering mischievously. “But clearly, not that you would understand that…”

“Well your beauty doesn’t mean shit. You look the same as you did an hour ago.” He spoke indifferently, before quickly ducking to dodge the remote she had thrown at him. “W-what was that for?!” He shouted, his expression a combination of both anger and confusion.

“You know what it was for!” She retorted in annoyance. After a few seconds, she gave a light sigh, crossing her arms.

“Anyway…” She looked to the side, clasping her hands together. “I wanted to…um…thank you…for taking care of me. It’s been…nice.” Getting the words out proved to be more difficult than expected, though she wasn’t sure why.

On top of that, she almost felt somewhat…sad, in a way. Another emotion that she couldn’t quite place the source of. She had been so excited not long ago, since she was finally healed and could go back to her old life. But maybe…that was the problem.

As much as she hated to admit it, hanging out with Seedle was actually pretty enjoyable. She’s come to enjoy his snide remarks, oddly enough. And beyond that, he was still a fairly nice guy, who did seem to care about her to some extent—though he was pretty bad at showing it.

But now that she’s recovered, he’ll go back to the Underworld, and thus things will go back to how they originally were, long ago.

The overlords will all gather every once in a while to talk about whatever’s been going on in their lives, which will most likely always be the same stuff as usual. The only difference will be that in the beginning, they’ll express surprise and annoyance at Seedle’s return, but they’ll eventually get over it. But Seedle probably won’t bother spending much time with them anyway, since he never actually wanted to. So he’ll mainly stick around the Underworld, in which Pram will rarely get to see him. That aspect seemed to cause her some sense of sadness, much to her annoyance.

“Hm…” Seedle muttered, breaking the girl out of her thoughts. “There’s no need to thank me. As I said, I owed you. Now we’re even.” He gave a quick half-shrug, and the room fell into silence.

After a minute of stillness, Seedle placed a hand on his chin as if in deep thought. Looking to the side, he frowned. “Lately, I’ve been…thinking, about something you said. About my revenge on Salome.”

Pram’s eyes widened at the mention of it, but she only gave a mere nod in response, prompting him to continue.

Sighing deeply, he continued. “Well…you’re right, it probably wouldn’t go well for me if I did try to get my revenge. I don’t want to say I’d be killed again, but…I don’t want to waste this life that you’ve given me. So as much as I despise the idea…it might be for the best if I give up on it.” He sent a quick glance towards the girl, curious as to what her reaction would be.

Her mouth was agape, shocked at the decision he arrived at. She then gave another quick nod, her expression serious. “Wow, that’s really surprising, but… Well, I’m glad that you’ve decided on that. I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt…” Her expression immediately dropped as she realized what she said, then blushing furiously as she waved her arms around. “B-because I don’t wanna have wasted my time in reviving you, obviously!”

She tried to cover it up, but her actual intent was clear. She has grown to like Seedle enough that the thought of him being hurt—or worse, killed—was enough to give her a horrible sense of sorrow. It was similar to how she felt after he initially died, that depression and utter emptiness she had felt for many months. Looking back, perhaps her sadness then was derived from a deeper attachment to the man than she had expected. But now, with even stronger feelings towards him—it felt much worse.

She internally cursed herself, annoyed at having such sentimentalities. It was so contradictory to the natural demon way! She had always laughed at Salome’s sappy feelings of love for Zetta, but was she any better? Of course, not that Pram actually loved Seedle—that would be ridiculous, absurd!

At least…that’s what she told herself. But she couldn’t deny that the stupid, cynical demon did make her feel…different, in comparison to how she felt towards the others. It was such an annoying feeling—she hated it.

Seedle had risen a brow at her comment before slowly nodding with a smug grin. “Ahh…is that so? Well I certainly wouldn’t want to upset you, now would I?” He chuckled with a shake of his head. “But, there’s one other thing.” He looked to her with a stern expression. “Humor me for a minute, Little Miss Oracle.”

Her expression quickly became puzzled as she folded her arms together. “Huh? I already told you, I’m not an actual oracle…”

“That’s why I said humor me.” He rolled his eye, sighing, before returning to his original point. “If I give up on my revenge…what do you suggest I do?” He leaned back into the cushion, frowning. “I’ve dedicated my life to killing Salome. So if I can’t do that…what can I do?” He placed his chin in his palm, which had been resting on the arm of the sofa. “A samurai with no purpose is a pointless existence. So, Oracle…you got any ideas?”

With everything that happened over the past week, Pram had almost forgotten entirely about the whole oracle business. It was almost funny, really. That was something that caused her so much stress, but she so easily disregarded it after reviving Seedle. Now that things would soon be going back to normal, she would need to return her thoughts to it.

What was her own purpose, now? She wasn’t an oracle, and never had been. In a sense, she too, had a pointless existence…

After almost a full minute of thinking about it, she gave a light shrug. “No clue. I’m not an oracle, so I couldn’t tell you. But…” She trailed off as a smile crept its way onto her lips. “I’d recommend finding something new to dedicate your life to—something that will make you happy. It might take a while, but you have plenty of time to figure it out.”

Her smile then began to fade as she looked to the side. “But honestly, I’m probably not the best one to give advice on this matter. I…I don’t really have a purpose anymore, either.” She mumbled to herself as her frown steadily grew. “I based so much of my life around being an oracle, but now, I don’t even have that… I’ll need to find something that can give my life a new sense of value, too.”

Seedle looked disappointed by the answer, but he gave a nod, nonetheless. “Sounds like we both have a lot of thinking to do, then.”

Pram nodded in return as they both went silent. But soon, Seedle spoke up as he looked to the distance.

“Well…maybe…we can look for our new purposes…together.” He spoke so quietly towards the end that it had been barely audible, and Pram swore that she could see a faint blush in his expression…

Surprised by the strange words, she looked towards him as a rosy blush began to emerge on her own cheeks. “Um…well, I guess I wouldn’t mind that, but…” She tilted her head in confusion. “How exactly would we be able to do that?”

He sighed softly, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “That—I don’t know. But we’ll just have to figure it out eventually, yeah? After all, you never know what the future will hold.” He grinned as he crossed his arms, turning towards her eagerly.

She gave a quiet chuckle as she nodded. “Not anymore, at least…” She looked away for a brief moment, then nodded once more as she returned her gaze to him, smiling cheerfully this time. “Hm… Maybe finding my purpose with you will prove to be amusing…in its own right.”

“Ha, here’s hoping!” He laughed loudly as he leaned forward, then finally standing up. He stretched his arms and legs for a minute, then took a few steps closer to Pram.

“As for my purpose right now—I think it’s about time I take my Underworld back. Wanna come along?” He held his hand out to her with a bright grin. “After we kick those fools’ sorry asses, we can torture them some more for even thinking that they could dare to try and take my crown.”

Her smile grew as she took his hand—absently noting how large and warm it was—and stood. “Ooh, that does sound nice. That’ll be a good way to celebrate my full strength returning to me, too. _Buuut_ …” She grinned mischievously as she stared up at him, posing cutely as she held her arms behind her back. “If I help, I call dibs on being the new queen of the Underworld. Deal?”

“Queen, huh? We’ve never had one of those before, but…” He chuckled, placing his hand on his hip. “If you do a good enough job, I _might_ consider it.”

“ _If_ I do good enough? Please!” She scoffed playfully, shaking her head. “You don’t need to worry about that—we both know I’ll be _much_ more than satisfactory.” Pram winked before skipping ahead of him, with Seedle laughing one last time as they both were enveloped in their auras—soon vanishing out of sight.

A mere week ago, Pram never would have expected this outcome. For her to revive the man that attacked her, and then to become so attached to him in such a short amount of time. Her purpose in reviving him had been solely to find the answers that she sought, yet she found friendship instead… It was an incredibly unpredictable outcome, that was certain. But she was starting to think…maybe living life without knowing the answers to everything wouldn’t be so bad after all.

And now…

It seems as though the False Oracle has found her new favorite plaything—in the form of a Fallen Samurai.


End file.
